Striking A Chord
by ZBBZL
Summary: "Please, Kiki. You know you want me to make love to you, and put a baby in your belly." KD. Missing scene from 3x22 'Neighborhood Watch.'


_Title: Striking A Chord_  
_Timeline: Missing scene from 3x22 'Neighborhood Watch.'_

_To Jess._

* * *

"Oh, you are _so_ _not_ wearing this, Mrs. Waring," Deeks said, standing in the doorway, his hair still wet from his shower.

She turned to him, and her breath caught. Here he was, simply dressed in a black button-down shirt and dark jeans, and yet, her partner looked so much smarter than usual that Kensi couldn't quite help it. Luckily, his eyes were focused on his wrist where his fingers were adjusting his watch as she took him in, and he didn't catch her looking – _staring_, really – at him.

"And can I ask why ?" Kensi snorted, taking in her reflection in the mirror. She liked this dress, and that he apparently didn't approve stung a tiny bit (and, oh she hated herself for letting this affect her whatsoever). "I assumed _you_ would love this, Deeks."

After a long moment hesitating in front of their closet – which was really much more hers than his, since Kensi had only left him a drawer or two – Kensi had finally opted for a dress that was, in all honesty, _everything_ she thought a guy like Deeks would drool over. Not that she wanted him to, obviously, but it was revealing enough to catch the attention, and mysterious at the same time, _suggesting_ curves more than showing, so he would want to tear the fabric off of her once they were alone again.

She _definitely_ didn't want this to happen. But, a woman like Melissa would, and Kensi was a professional.

"Oh, but I _love_ it. I do, _really_, angel," Deeks replied, the term of endearment sending a thrill through her spine, and Kensi couldn't repress a slight shiver. He came closer and stood behind her, his fingers fluttering up and down her arms. "I don't want poor Polina to be jealous of my gorgeous, stunning wife."

Kensi nudged him in the stomach with her elbow, and tried to shrug his touch away. It only made him tighten his grip on her, as his fingers drifted south, closing around her wrists. Sighing, Kensi let him wrap his arms around her, knowing that resistance was futile when Deeks had decided to play the loving, cheesy husband – though, it annoyed the hell out of her, particularly when they were at home, where no one could see them.

"Besides," he added, lowering his lips to her ear, while still locking eyes with her in the mirror, "I don't want Brett to try and steal my beautiful bride. And, if you wear that dress, he won't be able to keep his eyes off of you. His hands, probably, too. I can't allow that."

She sighed again, louder this time, and rolled her eyes. "I'm not yours," she said, a smirk gracing her lips.

"Oh, but you are, honey. You offered yourself to me, body and soul, remember ?" Deeks almost slurred in her ear. "Until death do us part. You promised to love me and cherish me, and be _mine_ forever. You can't back out on your end of the deal, now."

His sweet nothings, but his tone above all – the low rumble of his voice reverberating against her skin as he delivered the words by her ear – made Kensi tremble. Something that Deeks couldn't _not_ notice, due to their proximity, her back pressed to his chest. He didn't call her out on it, though; he just stepped back, letting go of her wrists, and then his hands were brushing her stomach and hips for the briefest second, before his fingers flew to her back. Deliberately, ever slowly, Deeks pulled down the zipper of her dress, and Kensi gasped.

"If you value your life, stop right this second," she warned him. "I'm serious, Deeks."

She tried to put it all in her tone: her growing irritation, the reality of her threat, but Deeks obviously didn't buy it. She tilted her head to him, and shot him a lethal glare that only earned her a smirk. He knew he had won, and she knew she hadn't exactly put up a fight – which was stupid and ridiculous of her, considering there was no one who could possibly see them, and that she could go all Kensi Blye on him right now, twisting his arm for daring touch her like this.

She didn't, though, and he finished what he had started, until his fingers found the small of her back where the zipper ended. "Put on something that won't make all the neighbors want to have a piece of my wifey, will you ?" Deeks asked, and, for added effect, he gave her a little tap on her behind.

_Wrong_ _move_.

Kensi turned around abruptly, and smacked him on the chest. _Hard_. Deeks bent over, and lifted a hand to his chest, rubbing the sore spot. "Heh, that's no way to treat the future father of your child, my sweet."

"Oh, dear God, _Deeks_," she insisted on using his real name, trying to make him step off of this little cloud he apparently was sitting on, and call him back to earth. "You didn't knock your head. Stop being delusional."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and the devious smile dancing upon his lips only widened. "_Please_, Kiki. You know you want me to make love to you, and put a baby in your belly." Kensi's mouth fell open, and Deeks made the most of her momentary silence to go on. "That's okay, Kens, really. I promised to love you, too," he winked at her, holding out his left hand and touching his wedding band with the tip of one finger. "And if what you want is a bunch of kids with your delicious hubby's eyes and Mommy dearest's ninja skills, then you'll have it. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know that."

His words were playful, but his tone and his blue eyes fixed on her, those deep cerulean orbs focused on her as if the rest of the world no longer existed… Oh Lord, they shook her to the core. And, all of a sudden, Kensi felt quite exposed, now that her strapless dress was only held in place by –

By _what_, exactly, now that her infuriating fake husband had pulled down the zipper ?

One quick look down made her sigh in relief at seeing that her chest was still covered by the skimpy red fabric. But the feeling only lasted so long, before being replaced by one of unease as the brightest shade of pink started creeping up her skin, up to her neck and flushing her cheeks.

His words, _God_… She knew he meant every single one of them – those who mattered, and that had made her heart beat faster, colliding against the walls of her chest. He had proven it to her on many occasions that he was indeed always there for her, whether it was as he held out his hands to her, or when he knocked on her door with a smoothie and beers.

There _was_ nothing he wouldn't do for her. And, on a side note, Kensi reckoned that she, too, would do _anything_ for him – as long as this did _not_ imply having this particular conversation with him. She had been moved, and shaken, earlier when she had started it. She was reasonable again, now, and they simply couldn't venture in those uncharted territories.

Family, children, the happy ending they could have (separately, naturally) if this was a movie.

"We're going to pretend you didn't say a thing," Kensi finally managed to let out. "You go back to the bathroom and try to do something with that stupid hair of yours, and I finish dressing up. And," she warns, emphasizing her tone by pointing a finger at him, "you shut up, Deeks. You won't open that mouth again until we're at Brett and Polina's, are we clear ?"

He nodded, but then raised his hand in the air like a schoolboy. Sighing dramatically, Kensi dropped herself on the comfy red armchair, and hid her face in one hand. "What now ?"

"I just wanted to point out some minor problems here, Princess," Deeks said, this maddening smirk matching the mischievous gleam in his deep blue eyes. "Not that I'm implying that my flawless wife could be wrong, but I think she is so overwhelmed by her awesomeness she can't quite handle it and it's starting to make her brain melt."

Kensi laughed. How could she not, really ? She laughed, and a genuine, even oh so tiny smile adorned her lips. Deeks had his ways with her, and he knew it; yet, whenever he complimented her (even in order to disguise his real intention, calling her crazy this time), she knew he was only always plain honest.

It both made her smile, but just as much as it embarrassed her.

She rolled her eyes – oh, someday she was sure they were going to get stuck as they moved – and tilted her face back to him, propping her chin on her linked hands on the top of the armchair. "I thought this plan was perfect, _sweetie_. But, hey, go on, I'm all interested now."

He smiled, and ruffled her hair on his way to sitting on the end of the bed. Once again, she decided it wasn't worth injuring him – _for_ _now_. "Well, hun bun, first, you should know by now that my hair naturally sticks out like this. No need for hair products or dryer with these gorgeous fluffy curls of mine. Second, you _know_ you love it." He counted on his fingers, his smile bigger by the minute. "Then, as much as I'm good at pretending, you know I just _can't_ erase from my memory the fact that my adorable wife suddenly seems entranced with images of kids running around. I would, too, if I were you. Two Warings are definitely not enough here. We should start working on bringing the third one to the world."

Kensi looked _horrified_. And, she was, really. Here her partner was, doing that thing again when his mouth moved and frightening words came out, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to make him stop. Oh, well, she had ideas, but they would all be hard to explain and justify to Hetty.

Oh, dear God, how she wanted to kill him right this instant.

Not only because he was being _obnoxious_ (wasn't he always, anyway), but because, without realizing it, Deeks was hitting a sore spot all over again, never letting her gather her strengths before attacking again. She simply _couldn't_ protest, because even before she could open her mouth and reply – or, more likely, insult him or threaten him to practice her firing skills in his groin – Deeks was already two steps ahead, ready to throw another joke.

She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose; it didn't hurt any less. He was just teasing, back to that banter that was so them she couldn't quite reproach him for it. But, even though he wasn't mocking her, what she had told him earlier wasn't something she just casually said to just anyone. She had meant it, when she said it felt nice having someone to say goodnight to at the end of the day – she had hoped, silly as she was, that he would understand that, once again, she wasn't referring to just _any_ sleep buddy.

Kensi didn't want to wake up _to_ him every day, or spend the rest of her life _with_ him. No. But, going undercover with Deeks, slipping under the covers with him at night… It felt nice. Probably more than it should, which was dangerous and stupid, but it did. It was nice doing this with Deeks; sitting on the porch at night to look at the stars, waking up to the smell of muffins and pancakes and finding him cooking her breakfast every single morning, or feeling his arm wrap around her in bed, his hand snugly tucked on her stomach as he would press her closer to him.

_This_ exactly, felt incredibly _right_.

His touch, his soft yet masculine hands on her, his strong arms holding her… He made her feel safe, and content. He made it easier to relax and drift into sleep, even if she always told him to back off and not cuddle with her.

Deeks made her crave for this to last forever. Three weeks playing his wife and the happy married couple had been enough to make her want to stick around, and settle down in one of those huge houses in a nice neighborhood like this one. It had been enough to make her actually voice it, and admit it to _him_, that yes, she had grown to love being here, and that she was now quite willing to embrace the idea of leading this life, someday.

And, she knew she would be lying to herself if she said that the thought of leading this life _with him_ hadn't crossed her mind – and, _oh_, how she knew she had been trying to deny it with all she's worth so far. Eventually, there was only so much someone could handle, before sparks ignited it all, and made it impossible to ignore the heat, the desire, the _longing_.

Deeks had gotten used to being Justin Waring, loving husband – oh dear God, if only this didn't also imply being cheesy, corny and ridiculously sugary – so quickly it was unsettling. He kept saying that it was easy for him because _he_ was _charming_, to which Kensi only replied with the rolling of her eyes, or loud sighs. He _was_, though; he always seemed genuinely interested in the gossips the neighbors they could meet felt like they had to share, and she had caught something in his eyes every time he gushed over a stroller, or the prowess of any of the little brats around. That part she believed was no cover; _she_ couldn't bring herself to find any of their neighbors cute. God, if he allowed her to drive, she would have run over some of those.

And yet, some afternoons when he was sitting on the porch and she would bring him lemonade (with the ridiculous apron over the sundress, oh Lord), Kensi reckoned she could get used to loving this, too.

He would sit there, and work on his pretending art – drawing and painting, because even if he sucked terribly, this apparently was what art was all about, not being understandable. Her eyes had widened, when Hetty, Eric and Nell came up with the idea – what on earth had crossed their minds that day, she really wondered. Deeks had immediately suggested that Kensi should pose for him, in this Titanic fashion that made her blush every time she forced him to watch the movie with her. That had earned him a kick, a blossoming bruise on his shin, but, _oh_, how it had been worth it, the gentle blush creeping up her skin. Kensi had vehemently fought so Deeks would pretend he was a writer, but, his weak attempt at poetry had been: _Melissa Waring, you make life worth living_. Pathetic, according to Kensi; it had garnered a smile upon everyone else's lips. And, she didn't even want to think of the rhymes he could come up with her real name.

This life had really nothing to do with theirs, but, somehow, it came pretty close to the idea she had of what wedding bliss could be – Deeks being _out_ of the equation, right ?

(Oh, the back and forth in her head, the denial followed by the want really started getting old.)

Kensi snapped back into focus, all of a sudden, upon realizing that the voice of her partner could still be heard over her silly, stupid thoughts. Deeks and his non-stop chatting could be endearing on some real _few_ occasions, but right now, the words just froze her.

He couldn't have said what she thought he just did. "What did you just say ?" Kensi cut him off.

"I said we could tell Brett and Polina we have been working on that."

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. And yet, the only thing Kensi could feel upon hearing those words was something else, something she didn't _want_ to name. "You are officially insane, Deeks," Kensi said, shaking her head in disbelief. She stood up and walked to the closet again, mumbling again. "You need another cold shower. Not that I think anything could make you less crazy, but…"

"Oh, come on, Sugar Bear." Deeks cajoled, leaning back on the bed, propped on his elbows. "You know it makes sense, Kens. Who would ever think that the happy, expecting married couple are badass super agents ?"

"You're not an agent," Kensi simply noted.

"I'll give you that," Deeks replied softly, before getting up, too. He leaned against the wall next to their closet as Kensi flicked through her clothes, looking for another outfit. This brought a small smile on his lips. "But, you must admit that it would help. You could discuss the joy of motherhood with Jane Felton, or gush over your adorable husband who takes such good care of you with Polina. You're women, you creatures are all about hormones," he teased.

Kensi groaned, the sound coming from deep in her throat, as she turned deadly eyes toward him. This only made Deeks' smile widen, as he brought a daring finger to lightly tap her nose. "Little Justin Junior would coax tongues into play, honey. It will make them let their guard down, seeing you as the sweet, innocent – well, not so innocent _anymore_, are we ?" he laughed as Kensi resisted the urge to twist his fingers. "Sweet Melissa with a baby in her belly has to be inoffensive, huh ?"

_God, make him shut the hell up, please_. "I stopped listening to you at the mention of Justin Junior, Deeks," Kensi grumbled, picking up a silky top and a skirt.

Deeks shifted until he was right in front of her, right into her personal space, and he lifted his hands to her hips, settling them there softly. Kensi shot him another deadly glare, to which he only responded with a chuckle and a beaming smile. "You're right," he mused after a few seconds, his thumbs starting to gently stroke toward her stomach. "I'd rather have a little girl, just like you."

She pushed him. This was too much, simply so much more than she could handle; his proximity, his daring touch, and his words, _God_ – his words and his low voice, the reverence in his tone, his eyes staring at her beneath those blinking lashes, his hands sending warmth in the pit of her belly…

Kensi pushed him, hard, almost sending him flying in their closet between his shirts and her many dresses. Deeks blinked at her, genuine surprise flicking in his deep blue eyes. Then, a slight frown created a dent between his eyebrows, and Kensi turned her back on him, unable to face him as she spoke again. "Could you just drop this stupid idea, Deeks ? _Please_ ?"

This _killed_ him. _This_, this single, simple word, that his partner never, _ever_ uttered if she didn't _have_ to. If she didn't feel hopeless and scared, and Deeks could remember with such clear clarity the few times she had said this to him in the past, and the look in her eyes, the shaking in her voice as she did.

It had always happened because life was taking a toll on her, never because _he_ was the source of her afflictions.

The smile left his lips, and his eyes grew serious again. He extricated himself from the closet, coughing at the dust there, and watched Kensi walk to the bathroom with her new clothes in hand without a second look at him.

The door being locked behind her was probably the scariest sound he had heard, ever since this assignment started. She had yelled at him a couple times over silly things like coming in the bathroom while she showered, or tucking his hand in the waist of her jeans, fingers toying with the hem of her panties as neighbors passed by and waved them hello. She had rolled her eyes, thrown her arms up in the air, sighed – she had to be _exhausted_, at the end of the day. But, not even once had she walked away from the room at one of their arguments, if you could call them that.

Not during the three weeks they had been there, nor in the two years they had been working together, either.

He had gone too far, this time, pulling as Kensi was pushing. Deeks had only meant this to be playful, though he thought he had a point in thinking that maybe they needed to change tactics after three weeks of almost nothing. This assignment could last longer, and so far, they hadn't befriended with so many people. Most couples living in the neighborhood were older than them, and had children – including the insufferable Cody Felton who had interrupted their quiet moment earlier. Brett and Polina were probably the only couple their age with no kids, and if Brett wasn't Serena Miller's handler (which he highly doubted, anyway), then they would be back to square one.

He thought that the idea of them having a baby would give them an occasion, a reason to talk to all those it-moms who lived there. And, secretly, he had to admit that playing the caring husband, albeit a bit scared of the perspective of fatherhood, _thrilled_ him. Then, he could legitimately be even cheesier than he had been so far, hugging her protectively all the time, letting his hands venture underneath the fabric of her shirt to feel their imaginary baby there.

Oh, how he could so easily imagine the same scene happening as they would lie together in bed, his hand stroking her belly, a gentle kick prodding against her smooth skin.

He was in trouble deep here. Nearly just as much as what was doomed to happen, once his beloved partner would come out of the bathroom. Tentatively, he knocked on the bathroom door, and leaned his ear against the frame, trying to make out any sound in there. "Kens ? I was just being stupid, partner."

No reply.

"Really, really stupid," he tried again. "Obnoxious, stupid, way out of line, and I won't do it again, Princess."

A light chuckle.

"Come on, Fern. I won't mention my super husband genes again. Your womb is safe."

A snort, followed by footsteps. Kensi opened the door and headed to her dressing table where she sat, and flicked through her make-up – ignoring him completely. At this point in their relationship, Deeks knew that a good kick was better than her indifference. He also knew that she could play the loving, lovely wife in front of their neighbors, be professional as always when it was needed, and still go all silent on him when the doors would close again, leaving them alone, unseen and unheard by prying eyes and ears.

Deeks knew by now that, as much as Kensi claimed all day long that she hated his jokes, didn't fall for his charm or simply found him disgusting, she still couldn't quite resist his gentle persistence. Deep down, Deeks reckoned that she even liked the way he always pushed past her defenses, stepped out of the boundaries she drew, for she saw them as proof, evidence that he was not going anywhere, that he would always come back to her, even if she kicked him, yelled at him to go away, or wanted a divorce.

"You look fantastic," he said quietly. She replied with two simple words, her voice barely above a whisper, but didn't turn to face him. He went on. "Though, I like it better when you have your hair down," he added as he stood behind her, and teased the clip holding her hair.

She hissed, warning him, and moved her head. "I don't care what you like or not."

"Oh, I think you do," Deeks replied, no hint of teasing in his soft tone. "You wouldn't have changed your clothes if you didn't. I do care, too." He stopped, watching her hesitating between shades, and pointed at one that would make her lips even more kissable – oh Lord, those thoughts of his. She aimed to take the lipstick, and stopped, recalling his words. "I could brush my hair for you."

"Good for you," she snorted, before applying her mascara. "I still don't care about what you want or not. I'm not your doll, Deeks."

"I'm sorry."

He leaned down, and encircled her with his arms, hands gripping the edge of the table on each side of her, until his chin rested on her shoulder. She shrugged her shoulder and kicked him, and he bit down the inside of his cheek not to whine – that elicited a smirk upon her lips.

"I'm sorry. I know you were being serious and honest, and I turned it into a joke. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"You should shave," Kensi just said. "Your scruff stings."

"I will if you want me to."

She laughed, and hated herself for that. She blamed it on his cologne that she could inhale with every breath, the warmth of his skin sinking into her body, and his current, ridiculously sexy outfit.

(Dear God, how she wanted to rip that shirt off of his body. Those jeans, too.)

"You really want all of this, Kens ?" he asked, softly nuzzling his scruffy jaw against her shoulder.

"As much as I want you to choke to death, darling," Kensi grumbled. "I _so_ want to get out of here. As far away from you as I can."

"Hey now, you don't mean that, honey bee. You gave me the Woody because you wanted to make sure that litter of ninja mutant assassins would happen," he slurred in her ear before retreating out of her reach. "Don't tell me you don't enjoy every single second of living the sweet life."

Kensi sighed and ignored his comment, going to retrieve a pair of boots from the closet. She put one on, and extended her leg on the chest at the end of their bed to zip it up. The movement didn't go unnoticed by her partner's roaming eyes, and Deeks knew for sure that she was putting up a hell of a show just to pay him back.

Oh, well…It's not like he minded, at all.

"This life is sweet," she finally admitted. "But, with _you_ ? Not so much." She nodded her head, a devilish smile tugging at her lips. "I hate it when you sing while cooking, or when you use my shampoo. I hate that you get to drive all the time because Melissa is a lazy trophy wife, I hate all the pet names, I –"

"But you love waking up in my arms, that I cook you breakfast every morning," Deeks started counting on his fingers, raising his voice louder than hers. "You simply adore it when I get you your favorite candy, you love that I record your lame reality-TV shows when you doze off before the end. You fall deeper in love with me every time –"

"I hate it when you're oh so cocky, and take advantage of the fact that I can't –"

"Help but swoon at your adorable husband who loves you so much he deals with your cranky mood when you're sugar-deprived!" Kensi's eyes widened, and Deeks pressed on. "See, this is exactly why you being pregnant would sound so normal, I'm sure the neighbors have noticed we go grocery shopping all the time because you can't stop eating!"

Kensi walked to him, and stopped right in his face. "Are you calling me fat ?"

"You know you're perfect, don't even try playing the self-conscious card, Kens." Deeks looked at her, and she averted her gaze. "Oh, now you're playing the blushing bride again. You're _so_ cute when you do that."

"Don't call me _that_, you moron," Kensi half-whispered, half-snorted, as she pushed him – more patted his chest than anything, really. "I want a divorce."

"No, you don't," he replied as quietly, looping an arm around her waist. "You want to work things out with your husband who is very sorry for being a jerk."

"Hmpf."

"What was that ?" Deeks asked, beaming. "That sounded like a _yes_, to me. And, I am – _sorry_, I mean, Kensi. And," he paused, freeing her, and bending down to zip up her other boot, "I think that the day you hang up your gun, you'll be a great mom. Like, the coolest mom ever, the one who teaches you how to hotwire a plane."

Deeks straightened, and stared back into her eyes. This time, she didn't look away. "Besides – and, _this_ stays just between us, Fern, but… It is comforting, having you next to me when I go to bed, and when I wake up. _You_, not Melissa. The pretty trophy wife ?" he said, "It doesn't quite work for me. Feisty, _cranky_ Kensi ?"

"Shut up."

"That's my girl."

"I'm not your girl. And, God help me, I won't be your wife much longer if you –"

"That's okay," he interrupted her, tapping her nose again. This time, she smiled. "I don't want you to be my wife, I want my partner back. But," he went on, "if you really, _really_ want the white-picket fence, the dog and the kids running around… Well, we already have Monty."

"As if I would actually want kids with you," Kensi laughed, but it came out much, much kinder than she intended to. "But… I guess you could be goofy Uncle Marty, if you wanted."

"_Marty_ ? Wow, Kens – I'm glad we've moved beyond the 'last name' stage of our relationship."

"That's what tends to happen when you get married, _Justin_."

He laughed. "I would be first on your list, right ?"

"Which list ?" she asked, though a smirk already spread on her lips.

"The _put a baby in my belly_ list. I'd be first, right ?" Deeks insisted. "We don't even know where Callen is from exactly, too much uncertainty in his family tree. Sam's married, Eric is too much of a nerd… That leaves you with me."

She bit down on her lip, repressing a smile. Slowly, she lifted her hands, and tugged at his belt, freeing his shirt that he had tucked in his jeans. He looked at her, surprised, and this time, she allowed the smile to grow. "Here, now you look much more like you. I like it better that way. Come on, now, Justin. Our friends are waiting for us."

This was a yes, right ?


End file.
